Young dads, I thought of something this morning that made me think of you.
When I was a kid, my dad was almost always on the move — working in the yard, working in the garage, working at work, fishing, or hunting. He sat still for two reasons — to eat and to read the newspaper in the evening.
This morning it hit me, the closest I came to dad physically was as he read the newspaper. He sat at the end of the couch by the lamp. I sat right beside him, against him.
Dad had is place on the couch just as surely as Sheldon Cooper on The Big Bang. Dad plopped down there, and if I was in the house I plopped down beside him, up against him, doing whatever I was doing.
That was the most Dad and I ever touched.
I don’t think I did that for my kids. I suspect I had a recliner or armchair. They would climb up in my lap, and I surely loved that. But bigger kids will not usually climb into your lap, but they may sit beside you, against you.
When your dad is 92 and you are 64, it’s interesting the things you remember and treasure. I love that he sat still, read the paper, and let me be as close as I wanted. One of the smartest things he ever did, and he was a very smart guy.